


Floodgates

by Angelic_Ascent



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Angst and Porn, During Canon, Hand Jobs, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 10:23:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3377981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelic_Ascent/pseuds/Angelic_Ascent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That’s one of the reasons he was the Shepherd, after all. Not only to help bridge the gap between human and tenzoku, but to protect what was precious.</p><p>Today, of course, had been sharp reminder that it doesn’t take long to lose something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Floodgates

In the dim inn room where the only lamp is the moonlight through the window, Sorey can’t see much. He can see the table next to the window, where his Shepherd’s coat lay. It nearly gleams in the moonlight, catching his eyes whether he wants it to or not.

He turns onto his back. He’s not sure when he laid down, but it was at least an hour ago, probably two. He closes his eyes for the countless time -- they’re heavy, so heavy.

He doesn’t want anything like what happened today to happen again. The thought of it makes his insides feel like lead.

A few minutes later and he opens his eyes again with a sigh.

Could he have done anything else?

That’s the worst part -- that it seems like there wasn’t anything he could do. Like it was _inevitable._ To lose a comrade. A friend.

He bites his tongue.

What if that were to happen again? What if there was nothing to be done?

What if it was Rose? Or Edna? Or Lailah? Or -- 

In an instant Sorey feels like he’s going to be sick, and he sits up quickly. It’s not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind before; after all, that’s why he told him to stay behind at first. Because this was dangerous. But in the end, Sorey had agreed -- because Mikleo was right. This was _their_ dream. And besides, Sorey would make sure that nothing ever happened to Mikleo. No matter what.

But what if it was like today? What if making sure wasn’t enough?

Suddenly everything is fragile and Sorey is fighting the urge to run off to Mikleo’s room just to make sure everything is okay.

Slowly, he lays back down. His thoughts are starting to run ahead of him, and he really has to get to sleep. He closes his eyes.

He sees Mikleo in Dezel’s place, Mikleo fading away and --

Sorey sits up twice as fast this time, not even able to acknowledge that it’s quite possible the next room over heard his horrified gasp.

With a shaky exhale, Sorey brings his hands to his face. 

_Knock-knock-knock._

At the sound, Sorey is on his feet and it seems like almost instantly he feels nearly fine. He’s not sure whether it’s who’s at the door, or the fact that floating in the back of his mind is a faint recollection of reading somewhere that the brain tries to block out what can hurt it most.

Either way, he starts to speak before he has the door open even a centimeter. “Mikleo?” He asks quietly.

As the door creaks open, there, of course, is Mikleo. Even the darkness ahead of Sorey, he seems to shine.

“Do you have a spare few minutes?” Mikleo whispers.

Sorey nods and steps aside, allowing Mikleo past. “Is everything okay?” Sorey asks as he shuts the door and turns around.

Mikleo gives a short nod. “Mm,” he says, not sounding all too sure of that fact, but he departs from the subject quickly. “How did you know it was me?”

“You always knock the same way,” Sorey says, smiling for the first time in many, many hours -- even if it’s a tired, half-smile. He thinks he catches a small smile curve come onto Mikleo’s face too, before he turns his head away, facing the window. 

For a few moments, they’re both quiet. Perhaps it’s because the events of the day, perhaps it’s because they’re both tired. Sorey doesn’t mind, though; any time with Mikleo is time well spent. Time that he wanted to protect. That’s one of the reasons he was the Shepherd, after all. Not only to help bridge the gap between human and tenzoku, but to protect what was precious.

Today, of course, had been sharp reminder that it doesn’t take long to lose something.

Thinking that and looking at Mikleo makes Sorey’s insides feel like lead again, and he nearly physically tries to shake away that train of thought.

He focuses on Mikleo -- just Mikleo. Sorey can see that his eyes aren’t shimmering quite as brightly with their usual attentiveness. Still, they catch the light of the moon brilliantly, each shade of lavender reflecting it differently. His hair too seems to shine and his pale skin seems to glow -- honestly, Mikleo is beautiful. That’s just the only word there is for it. Every part of him, too, from the slender curve of his neck down to his shoulders, past the dip of his waist and to --

“Sorey,” Mikleo says, Sorey’s eyes snapping back up to meet his gaze, “About what I said earlier…”

His voice trails off. It’s not very much like him; then again, neither is showing up at Sorey’s room in the middle of the night. But today has hardly been usual.

“What is it, Mikleo?” Sorey asks, his voice a bit softer as he takes a step forward. Mikleo glances at him, before his gaze moves back to the side, off toward the window and the table. 

“It’s just… earlier, I said that we especially can’t give up now… for Dezel’s sake as well.”

Sorey nods. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“But I don’t want you to think that gives you the freedom to be as reckless as you want,” Mikleo says, talking faster, his eyes on Sorey now. “You… have to keep yourself safe.”

“...I know,” Sorey says with a slow nod. “There’s too much at stake. I wouldn’t needlessly risk everything we’ve done.”

“That’s --” Mikleo cuts himself off, shaking his head. Sorey notices his hands clench, notices his gaze tear away from him. It’s so uncharacteristic of Mikleo, even more so than everything else he’s done in the last couple minutes.

“Mikleo, what’s wrong?” Sorey steps forward again, the distance between them now only about a foot.

“Nothing.”

“Come on, you’re a bad liar.” Sorey tries to give him a reassuring smile, but Mikleo’s still not looking at him.

Silence fills the room, and with each passing second Sorey’s insides feel heavier and heavier. It’s unnatural and unsettling for him to not be able to read Mikleo, to not be able to tell exactly what he’s thinking with a single glance.

Eventually, Sorey takes another step forward. If Mikleo didn’t want to talk about it, then that was fine. “That goes for you too, you know?”

Mikleo looks at him, his expression still impassive, but Sorey can see his hands grip his arms just a bit tighter.

“I mean it,” Sorey continues. “It’s important that you keep yourself safe.” It was. It really was. Mikleo’s gaze drifts away again, and now Sorey puts a hand on his shoulder, because it is really important he knows this, and god did Sorey want the visions in the back of his head of Mikleo dying protecting him to _stop,_ “I just --”

His voice cracks and Mikleo looks up at him, his eyes full of bright life and concerned and so beautiful, and Sorey feels a floodgate open. “I just need you to be safe. No matter what. If something happened to you, then I -- then what are we doing this for?” Sorey’s words are coming out fast and his heart beating faster as he puts another hand on Mikleo’s other shoulder. He feels warmer than he ever has. “Mikleo, please. You’re -- you’re so much more than just my companion. I will do everything I can to protect you, but I --”

“That’s what _I’m_ trying to say!” 

Sorey nearly jumps, but is frozen in place when Mikleo looks at him. “I didn’t come here to tell you to keep yourself alive because you’re the Shepherd, it’s because -- because --” 

He looks down again, and Sorey becomes aware that at some point Mikleo’s hands had found their way to the front of his shirt, his pale skin even lighter with the strength of his grip. Maybe it’s because he’s paying attention to that, if only for a split second, that he doesn’t see it coming when Mikleo surges forward and shoves his mouth against his.

The force of it comes from Mikleo’s whole body, and so without thinking Sorey wraps his arms around his back to keep him from falling -- it doesn’t even take a second, though, for him to be holding him there for a hell of a lot more reasons than that. Mikleo’s lips are soft like the rest of him, and having all of him pressed against Sorey like this could only be described as something that was _right._

If earlier Sorey felt like a floodgate opened, now, it’s like a dam built over the course of eighteen years has completely shattered. He opens his mouth against Mikleo’s and the other readily complies, and it only takes one swipe of their tongues across each other for Sorey to feel weak at the knees. Still, he manages to pull Mikleo closer, close enough that Mikleo’s feet leave the ground for a few seconds. He just needs to get him as close as he can, and he needs him to stay there, he needs to kiss Mikleo hard enough that he’ll never think about having his life in danger for even one second --

Trying to reason out his actions in his head is a hopeless cause as Mikleo bites his lip and shoves his tongue past, pulling on Sorey’s shirt. 

Sorey can only moan, and it drifts into an almost disappointed whine as their mouths finally part, both of their breaths coming in hard pants. But even if that one kiss is over, it doesn’t matter; whatever was between them before was no more, and they’re together and alone, and Sorey is free to express what he realizes he needed to for far, far too long.

But before he can do anything Mikleo gives him a push, and he fumbles back onto the bed. Mikleo’s already sliding onto his lap as Sorey pulls him by the wrists before their lips meet again.

This time it’s less force -- a little -- and more sensual. But this time, Sorey doesn’t want Mikleo to kiss him -- he wants to kiss Mikleo.

He returns his hands to Mikleo’s back, though now he slides one all the way up to his neck, pushing him into it. He feels Mikleo grab his shirt again, and tries to focus on that sensation rather than the way Mikleo’s legs are shaking, because that’s almost too much. Sorey wants to go slower, he really does, but when he slides his tongue across Mikleo’s lips and Mikleo jumps against him in a way that pushes them together in a way that’s just too perfect, Sorey can’t help but shove his tongue in deep.

He feels Mikleo moan more than he hears it, not just in his mouth but in the way his body seems to melt against him. Before Sorey can start to take his time again, Mikleo’s hands are hurriedly fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, and Sorey’s pushes harder into the kiss as he runs his hands up under Mikleo’s top. In turn, Mikleo only starts to unbutton the shirt faster, and Sorey is reminded of times when they’d be racing through ruins, mouths moving faster than their feet as they finished each other’s sentences on their way to the truth of whatever mystery that day held. 

Sorey breaks the kiss, tossing his head back in a moan as Mikelo runs a hand down his now exposed chest. The feeling quickly changes from a feather light glide into a heavy handed touch, as if Mikleo is just trying to feel as much as he can as fast as he can, as if his hand is starving for the feeling of Sorey’s skin. Not to say Sorey is any better off; after he meets Mikleo’s gaze again and catches sight of his slightly swollen lips, his flushed cheeks, and his lust-blown pupils, he lunges forward, pressing hard kisses to the line of Mikleo’s jaw. Trailing them down his neck, he starts to undo his top as he goes in order to expose more of Mikleo’s nearly iridescent skin. As he gets to the too-soft section where his neck and shoulder meet, Sorey sucks, hard, and Mikleo pushes their hips together in a way that makes Sorey realize he’s not the only one who must be uncomfortable there right now.

He pulls back, not before noticing the bruise he’s left -- and he wonders, biting back a moan, if all of Mikleo marks this easily. The thought doesn’t linger, however, as Mikleo makes quick work of Sorey’s belt and undoes the top of his pants. Sorey makes the mistake of looking down just in time to see Mikleo pull out his cock and wrap his slender fingers around it, and Sorey shakes and moans loudly, his whole body tensing as he holds back from finishing right then.

“Shh,” Mikleo says, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Sorey lets out a shaky breath, feeling like he just melted a bit. After a moment, he slides his hands to the front of Mikleo’s pants, clumsily undoing them -- his head feels like it’s spinning, and it’s taking everything in him to do anything other than just focus on the sensation of Mikleo touching him like this. When he manages to get his hand inside and take hold of Mikleo’s cock, he’s rewarded with a moan and a kiss. This time, they manage to slow themselves a bit -- and in between the gentle sucks on each other’s lips and the drawn-out strokes of their hands, for a few moments it feels as if all is right in the world.

Mikleo is the first to pick things back up, biting on Sorey’s bottom lip as he starts to twist his wrist with each motion. Sorey’s hips jerk into it, tearing away from the kiss to take in a heavy breath. It’s when Mikleo runs his thumb over Sorey’s tip, letting the precum fall over, that Sorey wonders if Mikleo has done this before -- he’s reminded of all those times he’d do this, late at night with his blanket over his head, trying to push the thoughts of Mikleo out of his mind. For a second he’s not just wondering, but hoping it’s mutual.

He squeezes Mikleo a bit, running his hand up at one speed and then down at another, gauging even the most miniscule reactions. He pays attention to Mikleo’s each breath, trying to ascertain exactly what feels best. After a few strokes, he finds a motion that has Mikleo moaning with every one. To bring him closer, Sorey slides his other hand to Mikleo’s back, pulling him forward with a firm grip on his ass. 

Mikleo’s pumping him with a shaky fervency now, interspersing it with kisses that don’t last longer than a half a second. Sorey eagerly dives into each one, even if sometimes Mikleo comes back before he’s caught his breath again. His hand speeds up to match, making slick noises against how wet Mikleo’s cock has become.

When Mikleo tightens his grip and runs his thumb over the tip again, Sorey moans out his name, and in that instant Mikleo’s whole body tenses and Sorey’s name spills from his mouth. Mikleo holds onto Sorey’s shoulder so hard it hurts, shaking as he thrusts his hips up to make the orgasm last as long as he can. Sorey tries to keep his hand going, despite his whole brain telling him to stop and to focus solely on Mikleo, on how his eyes are squeezed shut and how he looks like a mess, but the most beautiful mess Sorey has ever seen.

Eventually Mikleo’s moans turn into just pants, and his body sinks into Sorey’s. Without delay, he resumes his strokes, drawing out a long groan from Sorey as the weightless feeling returns to his body. He lets go of Mikleo’s cock, but before he can slide his hand to the other’s backside, Mikleo grabs it, lacing their fingers together as he presses another kiss to Sorey’s mouth.

Mikleo’s going fast, twisting his hand with each motion and pushes kisses onto Sorey’s ear, neck, shoulders, his other hand rubbing against his hip -- it’s too much, too many sensations at once, and Sorey’s voice barely has time to crack as he says Mikleo’s name with a jolt when he comes. Mikleo keeps going, drawing his strokes for what feels like ages, until all Sorey can do is shudder as he tries to catch his breath, clinging onto Mikleo’s back with one hand and squeezing his hand with the other.

A minute, or two, or maybe thirty pass until they’ve both caught their breath. They lift their heads off of each other’s shoulders, their eyes meeting with things unsaid, things that cause Sorey to crack a small smile and cause Mikleo to push Sorey full onto the bed. He lays next to him, hooking his arm around his chest to ask a question without words. Sorey’s answer is to pull the blanket up over both of them.

“Stay safe,” Mikleo says quietly, not looking at him.

“Yeah,” Sorey replies as he turns to face him, and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “You too.”

**Author's Note:**

> they never cleaned up
> 
> i had intended to have this done for valentine's, but. oh well. 
> 
> the ending was intended to have a lot of dialogue of them accepting their feelings, etc., and go back to the issues presented at the beginning, but as i played more of the game (at the end of it now) i feel like a lot of their relationship relies on this unspoken, mutual understanding, so i thought this was a better in the end
> 
> thank you for reading, kudos, comments, it's all very appreciated!


End file.
